But sometimes you make a simple statement much more complicated than it was meant to be, No Dog.
Because every statement
is more complicated than it was 'meant' to be!

We only have one meagre perspective on any one thing at any one time. We may be hardwired to assume that our perspective is
the one, to prefer simplicity and certainty over complexity and doubt, but the fact is we don't even know what we mean half the time. I certainly don't!
I was just commenting that certain concerns are not in direct correlation with environmental or societal issues, but more in tune to human, animal, spiritual needs.
This has been my argument as well, and the reason why I see epic fantasy as a reaction to the scientific disenchantment of the world. We're hardwired to anthropomorphize, to make
social sense of the world (which is why in the absence of the scientific worldview, we attribute meaning, purpose, and agency to natural events - we devise 'Middle-earths' and call them real). Since we as of yet have no naturalistic picture of meaning, purpose, and agency, they remain 'supernatural.'
If that is too vague for you, then I apologize. But many of the questions we have been trying to address in the past weeks have been about concerns of the spirit. You may not find that category scientific enough, but it prevails in literature over time, and it rears its amorphous and veiled head constantly.
I must have misstated my point somewhere along the line, because I quite agree, and yet you seem to assume that I won't.
Imagine you have two friends, one who always seems to tell you what you want to hear - flattering stories that makes things simple and certain - and one who just describes things without any real regard for what you want to hear. Now for the longest time, it makes no practical difference just
who you listen to, so you tend to favour the former because you happen to like what he has to say. Then suddenly, the disinterested friend starts telling you things that make a
real practical difference, despite the fact you don't particularly like what he has to say. In one breath he says, 'humans are not made in God's image,' and in the next breath he tells you how to track and avoid cholera epidemics. And as time passes, he starts talking more and more and more, and the things he makes possible become more and more remarkable: supercomputers, thermonuclear devices, and so on. As this happens, you start looking at your other, more flattering friend askance. You still like what he has to say - even more, you realize he's saying things you
need to hear to make sense of your life, especially in the heartless world you suddenly find yourself in. But nothing he says seems to make any practical difference, the debates go round and round, and wherever his stories conflict with those of your disinterested friend, they seem to collapse.
You find that it's impossible to look at his stories in the same way.
You can imagine all sorts of possible reactions: 1) You could deny your disinterested friend and cleave to the old stories, insist on their
literal truth, and use zealotry and displays of conviction to compensate for your lack of justifications. 2) You could try to hybridize, try to give the old flattering stories the superficial form of the disinterested descriptions given by your more troubling yet more practical friend - try to have it both ways, in effect. 3) You could shrug your shoulders, and do away with the contradictions between your friends by taking the old stories to be metaphors for 'greater truths' that 'ultimately exceed our capacity to know.' 4) You can deny your flattering friend outright, and embrace a world that seems antithetical to some rather fundamental needs.
No doubt, there's innumerable other possible reactions, but I think this gives a good outline of the quandary I see us embroiled in. I see myself as belonging to (3), personally, though in a manner that makes it easy to confuse with (4) - which is probably why I find myself continually at odds with 3's (such as yourself) and 4's (such as Grantaire and Dawnstorm)! I just have no way of knowing or saying what those 'greater truths' might be. For me, they must remain an empty posit.
I'm all for the supernatural - I'm just can't find any way to decisively arbitrate between any of the claims - Christian, contextualist, Hindu, rationalist, Buddhist, post-structuralist, New Age - that purport to give factual content to that word.
Institutionalized science gives us the most reliable, comprehensive, practicable theoretical truth-claims in the history of our species. I think this almost a platitude, as is the assertion that institutionalized science has profoundly transformed the way we think and live. I sincerely wish this weren't the case, which is probably why it took my old poker pals two full years to batter down my rationalizations! To think I once thought I was one
exception, the one egghead in the history of the human race to lay is his conceptual fingers on real philosophical
knowledge on a par with that of science, and that my inability to engender consensus didn't lay in the weakness of my claims, but in the stupidity of everyone else on the planet earth!
But then we're hardwired to think ourselves the magical exception - something I intend to prove with my next trip to Vegas!
